


The Bonnie Banks Of Loch Lomond

by RagingBookDragon



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25520470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RagingBookDragon/pseuds/RagingBookDragon
Summary: The leaves crunched under his boots with each step, and though it wasn’t cold, he curled his arms tighter into his coat as he hurried to her cottage. Connor couldn’t deny that Achilles words had frightened him, mind thinking of the worst news that she could’ve received. He neared her home, stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of her sitting against a log beside fire she’d built, one hand clutched into a fist, the other curled around the neck of a bottle. He stared at her face, eyes focused on the flames before her, lips mouthing words. The licking and crackling of the fire hid her sounds, but the closer he moved, the louder her voice became, and he realized she was singing.
Relationships: Ratonhnhaké:ton | Connor/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	The Bonnie Banks Of Loch Lomond

**Author's Note:**

> Fun Fact: I am from a family of sailors, and we all have challenge coins! Issuing a challenge is fun! If you don't immediately get punched for issuing it! Enjoy! -Thorne

She wielded the knife with a practiced ease, slicing and dicing the many vegetables she’d laid out the hour before. Since she and Connor had gotten together, she spent more and more time at the manor, ultimately staying the night most days. Feeling it only fair for him putting up with two people in his home, she made Achilles most of his meals as repayment. Of course, she had no problems with it, with Ellen handling most of the tailoring needs and her waitressing job in the evenings, she didn’t have much to do during the day, so it kept her busy. A knock sounded from the front door and she looked up, calling, “Mister Davenport! Can you—”

His figure passed by the door as he griped, “I’ve got it.” She huffed a laugh, glancing back down as she heard the door open. Footsteps sounded into the dining room and Achilles addressed, “(Y/N), it’s for you.”

She drew her eyes from the chopping board to see a well-weathered man in a whaler suit standing behind Achilles; she smiled widely, wiping her hands on the rag at her waist. “Nathaniel!” (Y/N) walked around the table, arms outstretched as she pulled him into a hug. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you!”

He curled his arms around her, patting her back before pulling away, hands clasping the sides of her arms. “Look at you lass, all grown!” He pulled away and raised a palm to his hip. “I remember when you were just a _wee_ one.”

She snorted, then turned to Achilles. “Mister Davenport, this is an old family friend, Nathaniel Whitlock. Nathaniel, this is Achilles Davenport, the lord of the manor.” The two shook hands and (Y/N) asked, “What brought you this far out Nathaniel? Last I remember, you and Uncle Gideon were navigating for the shipping company down in the Caribbean.”

The man nodded, but the look on his face turned grim. “You might want to sit lass.”

She furrowed her brows, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest as she inquired, “Why? Has something happened?”

Nathaniel opened his mouth, then he shut it before letting out a sigh and reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch. He handed it to her, watching as unlaced the ties and flipped it over, the contents falling out into her hand.

(Y/N) looked at it. “This is Uncle Gideon’s challenge coin.” She grinned. “Oh, I remember as a child when I would watch him slap it on the table when he was with the crew. All the laughter and groans…those were _good_ _times_.” She looked at the man. “Uncle Gideon never goes anywhere without this…why do you have it?”

Nathaniel grimaced, explaining with a grieved tone, “Their ship…it—was attacked by pirates off the coast of Saint Augustine a few weeks ago.” He let out a sigh. “Another cargo ship collected the personal belongings left behind and brought them to us for determination of the surviving families.” He met her eyes. “I recognized the coin when I saw it.” Her jaw went slack, and he lamented, “I’m so sorry, lass.”

(Y/N) could barely form a coherent thought, but managed to blurt, “Uncle Gideon—

he’s _dead_?”

Nathaniel nodded and she looked between the coin and him before weakly fumbling for the chair beside her. Achilles leaned over, pulling at the leg with his cane and she collapsed into it, bringing a hand to her chest.

He took the seat beside her, reaching into his pocket to pull another pouch out, this time heavier, obviously full of the pension as she was owed. “He is…but you and I both know for a fact that he fought until the end.” A mixture of emotions ran through her at his words, anger, pain, pride, then more anguish. “You’ve been compensated a three hundred pounds.”

(Y/N) glanced at the pouch, then caught sight of the gold ring on his finger. “Have you any children, Nathaniel?”

His eyes widened but he nodded. “I do…two boys and a girl.”

She swallowed thickly, nodding at the pouch. “Take it back to them…I’ve no need of it.” His retort was cut off as she reached over, laying a hand on his. “Nathaniel, _I_ want _you_ to have this. I already have enough money to take care of me, but I want to make sure your children do too.”

He regarded her a moment then looked to the pouch, huffing a pitiful laugh as he muttered, “You’ve always looked out for others… _just like Gideon_.” (Y/N) felt her lips pull in a sad smile and he asked, “Do you have someone looking out for you?”

His words brought Connor’s face to her mind and she inhaled deeply, nodding her head. “I do…he tries to spoil me a lot, but I won’t let him spend money on frivolous things.”

Nathaniel snorted, but it quickly died out as he reached up to wipe his eyes. “Then Gideon can rest easy knowing you’re being taken care of.” She said nothing in return, simply watching him stow the pouch back in his jacket. After a moment of silence, he inquired, “Is there an inn here? It’s too late to ride back to the city now.”

(Y/N) cleared her throat as she tucked the coin in her pocket. “There’s one down the way…I’ll show—”

Achilles waved her off and quickly interrupted, “I’ve been needing to check on something at the inn. I’ll show you the way Nathaniel.” The two started for the door when he turned. “You go on home, girl.”

She dropped her gaze to her feet, feeling the burning in her eyes. “Thank you.”

** A Few Hours Later: **

He’d never be one to outright admit that he was tired, but with each step he took, feeling the aching pain shoot up his spine, he was pretty close to an admission. The front door of the manor came into view and all he could think about was taking a hot bath, pulling on some clean clothes, and collapsing across her lap as she giggled at him and asked if he’d had a long day. It made him smile, and as he opened the door, he called, “I have returned.”

There wasn’t an immediate response, which made his brows furrow, then he heard the rapping of a cane from the upper level, and Achilles appeared at the staircase. He stepped down slowly. “I see you’re back in one-piece, Connor.”

The assassin rolled his eyes as his mentor stood in front of him. “I _always_ come back in one piece.” Achilles chuckled before moving into the dining room, Connor following behind. “Where is (Y/N)?”

The older man paused, then settled into one of the chairs. “She received some bad news from a family friend a few hours ago…I sent her home so she could be alone.” Connor’s eyes went wide, and before he could move his feet, Achilles added, “Go clean up before you go see her, you smell like the outside.” His face pinched, but he obeyed, quickly running upstairs to freshen up.

** Some Time Later: **

The leaves crunched under his boots with each step, and though it wasn’t cold, he curled his arms tighter into his coat as he hurried to her cottage. Connor couldn’t deny that Achilles words had frightened him, mind thinking of the worst news that she could’ve received. He neared her home, stopping in his tracks as he caught sight of her sitting against a log beside fire she’d built, one hand clutched into a fist, the other curled around the neck of a bottle. He stared at her face, eyes focused on the flames before her, lips mouthing words. The licking and crackling of the fire hid her sounds, but the closer he moved, the louder her voice became, and he realized she was singing.

Her voice drifted into the air, full of emotion, and it stopped him in his tracks once more as he felt his heart become heavy. _“The wee birdies sing and the wildflowers spring and the sunshine the waters are sleepin’. But the broken heart it kens nae second spring again, tho’ the waefu’ may cease frae their greetin’.”_ The song wasn’t one he recognized, but it reminded him of the sea shanties the crew sang as they sailed. Connor smiled, walking over as she finished, _“For ye’ll take the high road, and I’ll take the low, and I’ll be in Scotland afore ye. For me and my true love will never meet again…on the bonnie, bonnie banks…of Loch Lomond.”_ (Y/N)’s head lowered, and she tugged the bottle closer, taking a long swig of it before she pulled it away and tipped it upside down, watching a few drops fall out. She let out a huff and tossed the bottle to the side, curling in on herself.

He knelt beside her. “(Y/N)?” A gentle murmur, as if he were coming up on a doe. Usually when he snuck up on her, she would yelp and fall over, but she simply tipped her head up, gazing at him with tired, hazy eyes. He raised a hand, cupping her cheek. “How long have you been sitting out here?”

(Y/N) let out a puff of air, turning her attention back to the fire. “Few hours…more or less.” She nodded at the bottles beside it. “I think I drank one for every hour.”

Connor glanced at the bottles, nose scrunching up from the bitter after smell of the whiskey. “There are three bottles, Ehnita…you have drunk them all?” (Y/N) grunted, casting a glare to the fire for her answer; he leaned towards her, prodding, “What has caused you such a reaction, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t speak at first, and she blamed the alcohol for slowing her response, but after a moment, she looked over. “My uncle was killed by pirates a few weeks ago.”

Connor’s face dropped. “Ehnita…I am so sorry.” (Y/N) tried to wave him off, but she brought her hand to her eyes, face twisting with anguish as she began to cry. He frowned, and gently sat down next to her, pulling her into his arms; she didn’t fight him, simply burying her face into his chest, body racking with each sob. Connor pressed a hand to her cheek, tucking her head under his chin as he rubbed circles in her back. “It is okay, (Y/N)…I am here.”

Her fingers twisted in his shirt, and she brought her hand down, holding it to her mouth as she said, “I hadn’t seen him since he moved to Saint Augustine a year ago. And now…and now he’s gone.”

He nodded against her with understanding. “I know your grief, Ehnita.” (Y/N) wiped in vain at the tears streaming down her face. “I wish I could take it from you.”

She sucked in a shuddered breath. “He was all I had left.” She pulled away from him, eyes wide with a newfound fear as she wept, “ _Ratonhnhaké:ton, I’m all alone_.”

Immediately, he took hold of her chin, face as solemn as his voice as he assured, “ _So long as I stand by your side, you will never be alone, (Y/N)_.”

Her lips wobbled. “Do you promise?”

Connor nodded. “I do.” (Y/N) shut her eyes and leant forward, feeling him press his forehead to hers. After a moment, he questioned, “What was that song you were singing?”

“The Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond.” She pulled back slightly, shifting around in his arms until her back was firmly pressed to his chest, head lolling on his shoulder. “When I was a child, I heard it in a tavern, and it was as if it’d been burned into my memory.” (Y/N) felt fresh tears rise in her vision, but she grinned. “It was Uncle Gideon’s favorite song.” The grin seemed to crumble, and she swallowed thickly, pushing out, “I figured I should sing it for him one last time.”

Connor pressed his lips to her temple, murmuring, “It would give him great pain if you never sang it again.” (Y/N) simply hummed in return, not trusting herself to form words and he curled his arms around her, holding her against him. “He would want you to sing it and remember his memory and all the good times you shared with him.” She pursed her lips and Connor laid a kiss to her temple again. “I wish I could have met him. He raised a beautiful woman, so talented and kind.”

(Y/N) let out a watery laugh. “He never had any kids, and after my parents passed, I’m sure he was as surprised as I was when I showed up on his doorstep all those years ago.” He smiled and she added, “He wasn’t perfect…but he did the best he could. Kept me clothed and fed, even paid for schooling...I wouldn’t be where I am today if he hadn’t bent over backwards for me like he did.” She lifted her hand, uncurling her fist to hold a silver coin between two fingers. “ _He left this to me…it’s all I’ve got left of him_.”

Connor propped his chin on her shoulder. “What is that?”

(Y/N) turned her head to catch a glimpse of him. “It’s a challenge coin.” His brows furrowed and she explained, “Soldiers and sailors carry them in their pockets, and if they’re in a tavern, anyone can take the coin out and slam it on the table. It issues a ‘challenge’ to the other members of the group to show their coins, and whoever fails to produce a coin has to buy a round of drinks. Though, if everyone produces a coin, the one who issued the challenge must buy everyone else a round.” Connor’s lips pulled in satisfaction, and she flipped it in her fingers. “I used to ask him to have it all the time…I loved it. And now…” she sighed. “ _Now I’m not so sure_.”

“He has passed the challenge to you, Ehnita.”

(Y/N) let out a heavy sigh, curling the coin back into her grip before turning her head up to look at the night sky. “ _I miss him…I miss him dearly_.”

He nodded against her. “I know the pain of losing someone you love… _I miss my mother every day_.” She didn’t respond, but she took hold of his wrist and squeezed firmly. Though it brought him comfort, he couldn’t help but grimace. “We should go inside…it will only get colder out here.”

When he shifted, (Y/N) grabbed his arms, keeping them in place. “ _Please stay with me...just a bit longer._ ”

Connor stopped and nodded, holding her tighter against him. “ _Take all the time you need, Ehnita…I will carry your grief with you._ ”


End file.
